Almost Every Part
by LuvEwan
Summary: Obi-Wan and Senator Organa nearly died at the Sith temple. Anakin's relief at his Master's safe return is soon eclipsed by worry---why won't Obi-Wan speak about his ordeal on Zigoola? Contains elements of slash between male characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Almost Every Part**

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Background info for a large portion of this story is taken from the events of Karen Miller's amazing Star Wars novel, "Wild Space". It is an Obi-Wan lover's dream, an angst lover's dream....sigh. Read it.

Author's Note: This story will, eventually, contain *slash to some degree. Between what characters and to what extent and under what circumstances will be revealed in time.

*Slash is this magical thing created to prevent fandoms from becoming stale. If you don't dig slash, then this story isn't going to be for you. Since I've given the warning, there isn't any reason for anti-slash declarations to pop up in reviews.

_Obi-Wan and Senator Organa nearly died at the Sith temple. Anakin's relief at his Master's safe return is soon eclipsed by worry---why won't Obi-Wan speak about his ordeal on Zigoola?_

--

Part One: Everything

--

Slaves learned to share things. Whatever little shreds of brightness a slave could find in life was shred into smaller pieces and pressed into as many other palms as possible. At least, that was Anakin Skywalker's experience.

He had always been forced to share the things he loved. His mother, whom he loved with a fierce, piercing brightness, could not always be with him when he needed her. Her life was not her own, and even when he knew she longed to be with her son, chains dragged her to darker corners. He learned to hold tighter when he had the chance. Her free time was precious, and he clung to her then, resented anything or anyone who wanted her attention then. Still, he knew she could not be with him every moment.

He knew her better than anyone. He loved her best. And of course, she loved no one but him, even when she was not with him. In their smudged, desperate world, there was no else but Anakin and Shmi.

And then the Jedi came, and the race, and suddenly he was walking away from her, not even permitted to look over his shoulder at her one more time, where he knew she was standing alone in the sand.

Qui-Gon Jinn had come to life out of a fantastic adventure story, told by Anakin's mother at bedtime, but under the gleam of otherworldly heroics, he was a stranger.

And Anakin would have to share him, too. With Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice, who did not like him. Anakin knew why, recognized in Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyes the same blistering envy Anakin felt whenever his mother was drawn away from him.

Then the battle came, and the Sith struck, and suddenly he was walking away from the pyre with Obi-Wan Kenobi's hand on his shoulder. He knew what a Padawan was. He knew that Obi-Wan was alone, too, with Qui-Gon dead.

In their hesitant, new world, there was no one else but Anakin and Obi-Wan. Anakin was a Jedi, not a slave. He had things that were all his own now.

He learned that maybe he wouldn't have to share anymore. He could possess things---and people. Obi-Wan was _his_ Master.

Tatooine was far away.

--

But somehow, he always ended up back there. To watch his mother die, to walk through wastelands with an apprentice he never asked for. Months later, the taint of that place, the oppression and pain, still lingered, like sand he couldn't shake from his boots. He found himself thinking like a nine year old again, reminding himself that he had to hold on to what was his. Padme. Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan. How the old possessiveness had seized him on the rooftop following the terrorist explosion, where he found his former Master crumpled and half-gone; Anakin always resented mortality's hold on Obi-Wan Kenobi. And later, in the healing room, Anakin could barely control the need to be with him, to stand among the healers as the true means of survival for Obi-Wan. He was ecstatic to be leading his own clone brigade, but a part of him mourned that he was not with Obi-Wan on the Sith-damned Zigoola, that he did not understand the horrors the man had faced there.

Today, Ahsoka was training with other new Padawans. Anakin had long ago adapted to the guilt for deceiving Obi-Wan about Padme, but now it was compounded by this kid. The situation would be complicated as her apprenticeship matured, but the war wouldn't last forever. And who knew what would happen after the Chancellor brought an end to the carnage. Maybe he wouldn't be a Jedi anymore; maybe the Jedi wouldn't need his skill once the Republic thrived in peace. Luckily, classes often occupied Ahsoka and left Anakin with convenient breaks during their rare returns to Coruscant.

And stars above, he was glad to be on Coruscant again. In this _home _again, he and Padme's, a place that belonged only to the two of them. It seemed to take nothing less than total alignment of stars and fate for both husband and wife to end up on planet at the same time. Padme's increasingly active role in the Senate took her away more than either of them would have liked.

She smiled at him from her pillow, ran her fingers down the sweat-beaded side of his face. "Heavy thoughts?"

He briefly smiled back and caught her fingers gently. "They're pretty much inescapable lately. Sorry."

"Don't be," she shifted, drawing herself into the curve of his bare arm, "I have a few of them myself."

They laid in silence for a moment.

"Senator Organa looked a little better today. When I saw him and Obi-Wan…I understood the meaning of 'the walking dead'."

Anakin turned his eyes towards the window and said nothing.

Padme lifted her head. "What? Has Obi-Wan not talked to you about it yet?"

"No," he murmured.

A pause, "It was very hard on him. He's probably trying to put it behind him."

From what Padme described, it was something anyone would desperately want to forget. When she arrived with the clones, Senator Organa was mangled, but it was the sight of Obi-Wan that brought her to tears: so soon after his near-death from the bombing, Obi-Wan was a bloody skeleton, rendered incapable of speech by his ordeal.

But Obi-Wan did not need to sanitize the more gruesome details for Anakin. After all, Anakin knew about Rattatak and the cruel Sith mask, Geonosis. What was it about Zigoola that Obi-Wan Kenobi wanted to conceal from everyone, even Anakin?

"I wish he would tell me," he admitted quietly. "I don't understand why he won't."

Padme pressed a kiss to his jaw. "It was a nightmare for him. He almost died. Give him time, Anakin. If he talks to anyone about it, it will be you."

"Has Senator Organa said anything about it?"

"No. No, just that it was horrible. But that was obvious just looking at them. Have you spoken to Obi-Wan lately?"

"He's been recovering. And Master Yoda told me he needs quiet."

"Well, we all know _you're_ not very quiet," Padme smirked.

Anakin grinned. "Funny, I'd say the same about you. I wonder if we have any windows left intact after that."

He loved the easy, spontaneous burst of her laughter; it reminded him how he needed to savor these moments...and that he would never have to share them with anyone outside this room.

"Talk to him, Ani. Don't force it. He cares about you," she moved the hair out of his eye, "I know he does."

His silver hand found her warm, pale waist. "Thank you," he whispered against her cheek.

---

"Skyguy!"

Even by Anakin Skywalker's standards, Ahsoka had a lot of energy. She bounded down the Temple hall, feet only occasionally brushing the ground, saber hilt in hand.

Anakin inwardly acknowledged that sometimes it was difficult to feign annoyance with his eager student. Sometimes. "Master. Master Skywalker." He corrected her.

She blinked up at him. "Would Master Skyguy be an acceptable compromise, then?"

He groaned. "Forget it. How was class?"

On the way to the Meal Hall, she explained the techniques Master Drallig demonstrated to the handful of Padawans, and how she and another student were asked to try a new, challenging drill in front of the others.

As they ate, she talked more about Drallig, her voice touched by awe. Anakin wondered how long the revered saber Master would be a focus of worship before the kid started chipping away at his esteemed veneer too.

"So Master Drallig trains all the Padawans, huh?" She asked, stopping her narrative to slurp on bubbly purple juice.

"He does. Including yours truly."

"Wow," She did seem genuinely impressed, her eyes going a little wider, "What about old guys like Master Obi-Wan?"

Anakin snorted. "Be thankful he didn't hear that."

"What?! I mean, he's really fast for an old guy. All the Padawans talk about him. Like when you guys sparred for me and everyone was watching. That was amazing! Can you do that again?"

Anakin looked down at his plate.

"Oh," Ahsoka's voice softened, "Sorry. I forgot he's still recuperating. I haven't seen him around. He must've been really hurt."

"Yeah, he must've," Anakin cleared his throat and used his fork to sift through the greens in front of him. "But we never have to worry about Master Obi-Wan. He can take care of himself."

"You mean when he's not getting blown up and tore apart?"

There was that cynicism, mixed with a childish curiosity—and lack of filter. "You know, Snips, sometimes you could just accept what I say and leave it at that."

"Sorry," she muttered again, finally getting the hint and taking several quick bites.

Still, he could feel her big, worried eyes on him. He was too tired to be annoyed.

---

He dismissed her for the evening; after the initial high of the training session, her weariness from the physical exertion had seeped in.

Anakin watched his Padawan walk away, then started in the opposite direction.

---

Obi-Wan was not in the gardens, and there was no answer at his personal quarters. Anakin inquired and was told the Council was currently in session; he decided to wait outside the chambers.

He felt almost an hour pass before the large, gray door slid open. Anakin stood, tipping his head in recognition of the Councilors who filed quietly out.

His former Master was the last to exit. Obi-Wan was tucking his hood around his face when he realized Anakin was there.

"Well, hello," Obi-Wan smiled, reaching out to clap his shoulder, "If it isn't the famous Jedi and war hero."

Anakin rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan never tired of teasing him about the attention the Holonet paid to his exploits. "Yeah, well, I don't give out autographs."

"A pity."

Anakin studied Obi-Wan's face, shadowed as it was by the cowl. His skin looked healthier, his cheeks fuller than when Anakin last saw him, in the hologram following his escape from Zigoola. Yet the sick rings under the eyes lingered; Anakin knew that was why Obi-Wan was so quick to don the hood, in the middle of the Temple. "My Padawan wants to know why you keep getting yourself blown up and torn to pieces."

Obi-Wan sighed. "It does seem to be an alarming new hobby of mine."

"Do you really think you're ready to resume your duties in the Council?"

"Resume? Anakin, we haven't the time for lengthy convalescence. A day in the sickbed is a day the Separatists have to get ahead of us."

"Said the dead man," Anakin frowned, putting his arm around his still-pale mentor, "C'mon, I'll make you some tea."

---

Obi-Wan's rooms always smelled very clean. He was a tidy man, although he conceded to Anakin that that had not always been the case.

"I could make it, Anakin. Really, I do it all the time---"

Anakin led him to an armchair. "Now, now, Obi-Wan. Sometimes I think you doubt my tea-making skills."

Obi-Wan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "You do have the habit of making it a little…strong."

"I thought you liked it strong."

"Flavorful, Anakin. But on Gehor V---"

He winced. "Alright, maybe I left it brewing too long that time."

Obi-Wan sat up. "I couldn't sleep for three days!"

"But think of how much you accomplished with all that extra, uh, spunk." Anakin set the brew on the heater, then took his place on the slender, blue sofa. Obi-Wan had fallen back against the chair again. "I think you could use some of that now."

"I'm getting old. Tea won't fix that."

"You're not old, Master." In fact, Obi-Wan's age was surprising, considering his accomplishments. Anakin remembered, early in his own apprenticeship, noticing how smooth Obi-Wan's skin was, free of the lines on his mother's face, on Qui-Gon's. Lines were cropping up on that face now, in the corners of his eyes and between his brows. Anakin could probably trace each wrinkle to its source. Naboo. Geonosis. Rattatak. Christophsis. Zigoola. "You're just…experienced."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I wish I had a little less experience."

Anakin was sobered by the slump of the other man's body. "The Council could have survived without you for one meeting. You're not well."

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Tell me, Anakin, with a new apprentice to train, where you find the time to hover over me like a nurse droid."

"I'm just worried about you," Anakin leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Padme…she told me what you looked like on---"

"Senator Amidala might be a seasoned politician, but she is no soldier. She's not accustomed to seeing the grit."

"I am. I found you on the rooftop." _Blood, tremors, froth, his eyes closing oh Force_, "It doesn't get any easier."

"For me either," Obi-Wan gave a quick, sad smile, "I'm fine, Anakin."

But looking at his one-time Master, all he could see was the fading body amid the screaming smoke, the red gurgle coming from his mouth, the frantic moment when he really thought---

"If you die, I will never forgive myself." The words were out before Anakin could even process them, purged after what he realized were years of gestation.

Obi-Wan blinked. "Anakin…_if _I die? Whether this war takes me or not, I'm not immortal. I _will _die."

"Were you dying on Zigoola?" He blurted, standing, breaths coming too fast, "You must've been. Padme got tears in her eyes when she told me. And you won't talk about it…won't tell me what happened there. You can tell me, Master. I know everything about you, you can trust me with everything---"

Obi-Wan came to his feet. "Anakin, stop this. I told you I'm fine. I'm here and I'm whole. That should be enough. Death is all around us, but I'm standing in front of you. And I _do_ trust you."

"Then why don't you tell me what happened on Zigoola? I just want to help you heal. I wasn't there with you; I need to be here now."

"You are here," Obi-Wan squeezed his arm. "That is enough for me. Your presence gives me strength, Anakin. I'm very thankful for that."

Anakin could not bring himself to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He was embarrassed, but more than that, he was frustrated. Exhausted. Frightened, in a way he knew was ill fitting a Jedi Knight. Of course Obi-Wan would die. People died. His mother had---"I don't think I could survive. Not after…" he swallowed the lump in his throat, "Not after my mother."

He felt arms come around him. "You will," Obi-Wan whispered, "Your purpose is far greater than mine. You will survive it."

"I shouldn't have to." Anakin countered, gripping him tightly at the shoulders, "And I should've been with you."

"I would not have wanted you there," Obi-Wan was calm as he pulled away, "There is nothing you could have done if you were. It…it would have consumed you, too."

Anakin frowned. "Obi-Wan?" The man's face was waxen, too similar to the bleached pallor Anakin remembered after the explosion. He grabbed him by the elbow, "Do you need to sit down?"

"Lie…lie down," Obi-Wan rasped, and let himself be guided to his bedchamber.

Anakin helped him out of his robe and outer tunics, turned down the bed coverings. He silently cursed himself for putting Obi-Wan in this situation again, stressing him to the point of near-collapse.

But Obi-Wan only appeared grateful as he stretched out, the strain fading from his eyes. "I _am_ fine, Anakin. Just a little tired."

Anakin sat carefully on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry," his voice was low, "I didn't mean to upset you, Master. I just...I hate that I wasn't there with you."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You are a Knight now, and a teacher in your own right. We can't be The Team all the time. I did survive many years without you, you know."

"Yeah, but you also had Master Qui-Gon to save your butt then."

"Yes, well, my butt's still in one piece. I guess Senator Organa works in a pinch." Obi-Wan's eyes were closed now.

Anakin looked away, picking at a thread on the bed covering. "It's also too scrawny. You're not eating enough."

"I'd eat twice as much as a Bantha and you'd still fret."

Anakin sighed. "You're not taking me seriously. I'm not a Padawan anymore. One day I'll replace Yoda as Grandmaster and then you'll have to do whatever I say."

Obi-Wan chuckled and wiped wearily at his eyes.

Anakin touched his shoulder. "Can I get anything for you?"

"Mm.....no." Obi-Wan murmured. He turned slightly into his pillow. "You could keep your old, tattered Master company though."

Anakin smiled. He considered it a privilege that he was able to see an Obi-Wan no one else saw. He was allowed to sit with him in a dark room. "I will, Master." He replaced his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and watched him settle into sleep.

After awhile Anakin leaned back and sighed. He would wake up in time to kiss Padme goodnight, in their bed.

--


	2. Chapter 2

--

Part Two: Something

--

A hand on him. On his arm.

Padme.

He turned towards the touch without opening his eyes.

He rolled onto his stomach, rubbing his face wearily into the pillow, pushing down towards sleep again.

The hand gripped tighter on him. Squeezed.

"_N-No!_"

Anakin came awake all at once. He shot up, grappling in the dark for his saber, heart thundering in his throat and chest and stomach. "What? What is it?"

"N-No....ohhh....."

His eyes burned. He blinked hard, waiting for his vision to clear. The hand was still latched onto his forearm; the fingers dug and Anakin looked down, finally seeing solid shapes materialize through the shadow.

"Master?" He remembered then, that he had stayed with Obi-Wan, because the man had been so tired and weak and "Master!"

"Ohhh..."

Obi-Wan was writhing on the bed, blankets twisted around his legs, his free hand clutching at the side of the mattress.

Anakin pulled the other man up by the shoulders. "Obi-Wan, wake up! Wake up you're dreaming!"

Obi-Wan fought him, kicking his legs out furiously, moaning and screaming a disjointed, indecipherable litany.

Anakin held the sweating face in his hands, even as the body bucked beneath him. "Master, it's alright. It's me."

"P-Please....B-Bail...Bail!"

He'd never seen Obi-Wan look so frantic, so frenzied and undone. Anakin slapped him.

Obi-Wan immediately stopped, leaning forward on his hands. His chest heaved. He panted and gasped and, once, sobbed for breath.

Anakin rubbed his back. "You're alright. It was a dream."

After a moment, Obi-Wan nodded and sat up straighter. "Yes...yes I know.... sorry."

Anakin tentatively pulled away. He felt his heart start to slow. "Now do you think you can tell me what's been bothering you?"

"It was a dream. You...You said so yourself."

"You were out of your mind," Anakin snapped at him, not bothering to censor the anger and fear in his voice, "Force, Obi-Wan, I was about to pull my saber on you!"

Obi-Wan appeared sobered by the confession, but he remained silent, staring off at some unknown point in the dark bedroom.

Anakin wiped his eyes with the heel of hand. "It's Zigoola, isn't it? Seven hells, Obi-Wan, why won't you trust me with this?" He caught Obi-Wan's eyes, "Who else can you talk to if you can't talk to me? Why should I trust you if you can't trust me?"

"I do trust you, Anakin, I...." Obi-Wan breathed out, combing his fingers through his beard. "It was just a very...difficult time. Right now I'm trying to forget."

"Well it's not working."

Obi-Wan gave a hollow chuckle. "Obviously."

"Master, this is serious. Just now, you looked....how am I supposed to sleep, knowing that you are haunted by something so terrible you can't even talk to _me_ about it?"

Obi-Wan took one of his hands. "Zigoola became very personal, Anakin. Senator Organa and I were there for the Sith Temple. But the Sith, of course, were prepared for intruders. Specifically, Jedi intruders."

Anakin pressed reassuringly on Obi-Wan's hand; the man's voice was detached, small.

"The Sith onslaught hit early and hard. I....nearly crashed our ship. On purpose."

"Master?"

"I could hear a cacophony of voices in my head. It was like legions of Sith, like all evil, had crawled inside my skull and kept whispering for me to die. _Die, Jedi, die._ It never stopped. It grew louder, more intense. And Zigoola was a wasteland in and of itself. Every second there was hideous."

Anakin could not look at Obi-Wan, instead studying the slight tremble of the pale fingers he touched. "What about Senator Organa?"

"Bail did what he could, but so much of the battle took place where he could not reach. Besides the voice, the Sith...or what we later found to be a device programmed by the Sith...was forcing me to relive the worst times of my life. And it felt like I was back in those painful moments, unable to escape or react.

"It got to the point where I was caught up in several memories, one after the other. I could not control my body or my thoughts. The evil around me was literally curdling my blood. Bail would try to bring me out of it, but more often than not we'd have to wait it out.

"All the while, we kept moving. Towards the Sith Temple. Closer to the evil that was overtaking my brain. I began to hallucinate. I saw....Ventress, and destroyed nearly a forest of trees in my delirium. I couldn't eat. Sleep made the flashbacks easier to fall into. Eventually, I was gripped so strongly by them that I couldn't come out of it on my own."

"Then how _did_ you come out of it?"

Obi-Wan's hand felt clammy. He was sweating cold against Anakin's palm. "Bail did what he needed to do. He is the only reason I survived Zigoola."

"But how did Bail help? He doesn't have any Force sensitivity whatsoever."

A shrug. "As strange as it sounds, the Force was useless against what was happening to me. The Dark swallowed it up like it was nothing."

Anakin shook his head. "Then I don't understand. What did Bail _do_?"

But then Obi-Wan shook his head and quickly withdrew. "We found the Sith Temple. The mission was completed. It was one of the most challenging trials I've been through, but I'm here, Anakin. Now that you know, can we be done with it?"

Anakin was startled by the irritation he heard in the words. "Master, do you think maybe you need to....talk to someone about this?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I've talked to you about it, haven't I? On Zigoola I had to relive every horrible thing that's ever happened to me. I don't want to relive that hell now."

"Alright." Anakin said softly, "I don't want you to either. I'm sorry you had to go through that. And I do wish I'd been there, just so you weren't alone."

Obi-Wan touched his arm and laid down again. He looked exhausted, worse than he had after the Council meeting.

For the second time that night, Anakin watched his former teacher drift.

--

"There you are," Padme said in a sleep-smeared voice, sitting up halfway in bed. She squinted in Anakin's direction. "I thought we were going to...."

"Obi-Wan wasn't feeling great so I helped him back to his room."

She straightened the straps of her nightgown. "Is he alright?"

Anakin sat heavily on the edge of the bed, unbuckled his boots. "He had a horrible nightmare. I had to actually slap him out of it."

"Really?"

"It's not like him. He doesn't get nightmares, not any that I've seen."

"Obi-Wan is a strong person, but everyone gets nightmares. Did he talk to you about it?"

Anakin fell back on the pillows, still dressed in his tunics. "He told me about Zigoola. Well, some of it anyway."

Padme stroked his arm. "That's good."

"Yeah," he stared at the ceiling, "He was yelling Bail's name." He turned to look at his wife. "In his nightmare, he was yelling for Bail."

Padme frowned. "Bail? Well, I suppose that makes sense. It was just the two of them on Zigoola. If that's what he was dreaming about."

He returned his gaze to the space above him, the muted lights shifting, converging and bouncing apart, "He said that Bail helped him. Saved him. He wouldn't explain how a royal-bred Senator was able to conquer a Sith onslaught not even a seasoned Jedi Master could handle. I can't figure it out."

Padme settled against him, teasing her fingers across his chest. "_I _can't figure out why this matters so much to you. Obi-Wan is safe and on the road to good health. You should be grateful to Bail for doing whatever it is he did to help Obi-Wan. Zigoola was hell for Bail too."

"Of course I'm grateful to him," Anakin mumbled, catching and cradling Padme's slender fingers. "I just want to know what I'm grateful _for." _He closed his eyes, focusing on the measured movement of his lungs, the warm steadiness of the body beside him. He drifted.

_"N-No..."_

_"P-Please...B-Bail...Bail!"_

Anakin surged out of bed. "I'm going to meditate," he said, and spent the remainder of the early hours alone on the apartment balcony.

--


	3. Chapter 3

--

Part Three: Anything

--

The Chancellor never made Anakin wait for long. He had been standing outside Palpatine's office for only a handful of minutes when the door slid open. "Anakin, it's good to see you."

Anakin followed him inside the familiar room. The walls were a warm, scarlet tone, very different from the silver and grays of the Temple, even his apartment with Padme. He always knew he could speak freely within these walls. "I'm sorry I showed up unannounced, sir."

Palpatine chuckled and touched his arm. "Think nothing of it, my boy. You are one of the very few who needs no appointment for my attention."

Anakin smiled. "Thank you, Chancellor. I appreciate it. I know the war must keep you very busy."

"Says the famed general!" Palpatine seemed almost proud, "I am only grateful that you've found the time to visit an old friend."

Despite the Chancellor's boisterous mood, Anakin's smile grew heavy.

Palpatine's forehead creased. Gently, "Anakin, is something bothering you?" The man paused, his eyes falling, "But of course, I'd nearly forgotten. How is Master Kenobi? Reports indicated that he was in a bad way following Zigoola."

Anakin snorted. "That's one way of putting it."

"What do you mean, son?"

He walked towards the window. His fingers curled inside his sleeves. "I mean, he was pretty banged up when he got back. He'd lost a lot of weight and was in a bacta tank the first day. But we've dealt with that before. It was more....he's just been withdrawn. Keeping to himself."

"I've always been under the impression that Master Kenobi is a rather private person."

Anakin shrugged. "He is, I guess. But never with me. I had to practically guilt him into giving me some answers. And even those were....I don't know...vague."

"Ah." Palpatine nodded. "So you think he is concealing something from you?"

"I don't want to think that. He did tell me a lot about what happened there. But we've been through so much together and it's never broke him before. I don't understand what it was about Zigoola that changed things."

Palpatine sat down at his desk. "Have you spoken to Senator Organa? Perhaps he could illuminate the situation."

Anakin released a frustrated sigh. "See, that's what I don't understand." He stopped, putting his hands on his hips, watching the frenetic buzz of Coruscant at noon. "I don't..." He shook his head and turned to regard the older man, "Can I trust you, Chancellor?"

Palpatine leaned forward, bracing himself on the desk, face intense in its compassion. "Of course you can trust me, Anakin. Just as I trust you."

Anakin swallowed. "Last night Obi-Wan had a terrible nightmare. He was yelling and tried to fight me off when I went to wake him."

"Oh, my."

"And he was yelling Senator Organa's name. When I asked him about it, he said that Bail had saved his life on Zigoola. But something about it doesn't sit right with me."

Palpatine drummed his fingers against the buffed edge of the desk. "Well, if Master Kenobi really was on the brink of death, perhaps he does not want to dredge up the memory."

Anakin compressed his lips. "I suppose that---"

"Or perhaps he is attempting to protect Senator Organa."

His chest tightened. "What do you mean? Protect him from what?"

"I don't mean to imply anything, my boy. Senator Organa is an upstanding member of the Senate. And of course Master Kenobi is above reproach."

Anakin couldn't argue there. Whatever Obi-Wan was hiding, it did not lessen his admiration for him at all. He was only concerned for him. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm still not understanding."

"From what I've gathered, Zigoola is a dreadful cesspool. Master Kenobi and Senator Organa found themselves in a desperate situation there. Sometimes a desperate situation can call for drastic action. Or so they say."

Anakin's eyes were unfocused; his mind spun with potential scenarios. "You think maybe Senator Organa..."

"Did what was necessary to ensure Master Kenobi's survival. In such dire straits a man relies on his instincts."

He had stopped breathing, or was breathing too fast for it to register. "Do you think Senator Organa could have done something....wrong? To help Obi-Wan?"

Palpatine quirked his mouth. "I'm not sure, son, but I wonder. If the Senator had been honorable on Zigoola, why would Master Kenobi so studiously avoid the subject of his heroics?"

Anakin glanced out the window again. "I can't get those screams out of my head, Chancellor. I have to know what Bail did."

Palpatine stood, placing a comforting hand on Anakin's back. "Then perhaps you are talking to the wrong person."

--

_"N-No..."_

_"P-Please...B-Bail...Bail!"_

_--_

The Senate was on recess for the midday meal. A cavalcade of beings spilled out ofthe chamber doors, many in heavy conversation. Anakin spotted Senator Organa, in his customary gray attire, walking towards one of the lifts. He jogged to catch up with him. "Senator Organa!"

"Knight Skywalker, this is a surprise," Bail extended his hand, "I know that the Jedi tend to avoid politics."

Anakin gripped the offered hand. "Well, I've found one or two politicians worth talking to."

"That's one or two more than I've found, I think." Bail replied. There was a new, weary crack to his cultured voice. "What brings you to this den of squabbling and backstabbing?"

"Actually I was wondering if you had some time in your schedule to speak with me." He carefully watched for a reaction.

"Of course. I'd be happy to escape for awhile."

"Good." Anakin smiled.

--

Anakin had not been a slave for many years, but decadence still shocked him. He was uncomfortable walking through the posh cafe Bail had chosen. He wondered how many hungry mouths in the lower levels could have been fed with what high society spent on sparkling water and decoration.

They sat at a secluded table; Bail only ordered a drink.

"You're looking good, Senator. I hear that Zigoola treated you little better than it did Obi-Wan."

Bail took two swallows of his wine. "It's not something I'd ever want to experience again, that's for certain."

"Actually, that's why I asked for this meeting."

Bail sat his glass down with a light clack. "Oh?"

"My Mas...Obi-Wan is not recovering well."

Dark eyes shifted slightly from Anakin's. "I'm sorry to hear that. He's...still ill, then?"

"No, physically he's alright. He's weak and tires easily, but nothing too serious. It's his mental condition that I worry about."

"Zigoola was hell, Knight Skywalker. There is no other way to describe it. I admit that it keeps me up some nights. I can only imagine what it was like for Ob...Master Kenobi."

"He'll hardly tell me anything about what happened. I don't know how to help him."

Bail was studying his glass. "I'm sure he just needs time. And it's not easy to recover with a war still waging around you."

Anakin couldn't take a drink; a sour thickness sat at the back of his throat. This was Obi-Wan. He wouldn't waste time with false words. "Obi-Wan told me you saved his life there."

Bail looked up, apparently startled. "Well, he is very kind to say so. I wouldn't go that far."

"He said the Sith were influencing his thoughts, that he was hallucinating and reliving bad memories."

"It was awful to watch," Bail conceded quietly, "I spent most of my time on Zigoola feeling quite helpless and useless. He wanted me to stay away; he often became violent. But it was beyond his control."

"Master Obi-Wan is an incredibly powerful Jedi. You'll forgive me, Senator, if I don't understand exactly how you were able to help him. I'm not even sure I could stand against him if he were in that frame of mind."

Bail held up his hands and smiled. "The adrenaline made me stupid, I suppose."

"How stupid?"

Bail's expression faltered. "Excuse me?"

"How stupid, Senator Organa? Stupid enough to do something wrong, something my Master would need to cover up for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you do something wrong on Zigoola? Did you hurt him?" Distantly, Anakin was aware of his voice rising, of his body rising halfway across the table, his fists pounding on the surface. "Did you hurt my Master?!"

Bail moved back in his chair. "I was on a lawless Sith planet! With a deranged Jedi Master! I did only what I could to keep us both from dying. If you have Obi-Wan's best interests at heart then you'll let it be."

"I _only _have his best interests at heart! That's why I need to know what happened to him! Why does he suddenly have nightmares and scream your name in the middle of the night?!"

"Vape it, Skywalker, I have a _wife--"_

A blue-skinned humanoid approached them, his hands politely folded. "Excuse me, sirs, but---"

"I am General Skywalker of the Republic Army and Knight of the Jedi Order!"

"Of course, sir" the waiter muttered, and hurried to place an ornate partition between the table and the rest of the cafe.

Anakin looked down, trying to gather air or composure. "Nothing comes between us. Now he's keeping secrets from me, to protect you." He glared at Bail, "You, who were nothing but a stranger when all this started. In his dreams he pleads and calls your name. So just tell me, Senator. Did you hurt him?"

Bail lifted his chin slightly, his back straight. "No. I didn't. I did everything I could _not_ to hurt him. And if you want to know the truth, General Skywalker, he _is_ alive because I intervened. I don't deserve this...interrogation. If Obi-Wan does not want to speak about Zigoola, that is his prerogative. One I happen to share."

Anakin stalked up to him, stopping inches from the chair. He loomed over Bail. "Why does it matter that you have a wife? What would your wife have to do with Zigoola, with my Master? Are you keeping something from her, too?"

Bail came to his feet. "I don't need to listen to this...bantha spit." He gave Anakin a lasting look before stalking off.

It took all of Anakin's restraint to let the man go.

--

Anakin caught sight of Ahsoka across the training salle. She was standing with a couple other Padawans, her brows lifting animatedly as she spoke. Her eyes found Anakin and she half-sprinted, half-bounced over to him. "Hey, Skyguy, I guess we're leaving pretty soon, right? Do you think I have time to spar before we go? Doki was going to show me how to---"

He rolled his eyes. "Slow down. Leaving where?"

Ahsoka had the sudden, exasperated look of you-should-already-know; it was a look Padme tended to favor, too. "We've been assigned a mission to Hezza with Master Obi-Wan. He told me so a little while ago."

"Obi-Wan? To Hezza, _now_?" Anakin had spent two days on the notoriously cold planet in his apprenticeship; it was not exactly a conducive environment to healing. "The Council is crazy."

Ahsoka balanced a hand on her hip. "You know, Master, sometimes I think you're the crazy one."

Anakin batted at her head. "Watch it, Snips." He sighed. "I guess we should get ready to go."

--

He hurried to gather the meager traveling necessities, then paused, cursed.

Crossing his bedroom floor, placed a connection on the communicator. In a few moments, the screen blinked to life, filled with the face and shoulders of Padme.

Her brown eyes were resigned; sometimes, without even a tendril of the Force to guide her, she could sense when he would be leaving her. He traced the curve of her jaw with a finger. "I'm sorry. We're leaving for Heeza. Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and I. The transport's already docked."

She nodded. A tear glinted in the corner of one eye. "Alright. But promise me something."

He could hardly take the rasp in her voice. "Yes?"

"When you come back home, be at peace with Obi-Wan again. I miss my husband."

He cleared his throat. "I have to go. I love you. I'll contact you soon, if I can."

She placed her hand to the screen. Then, darkness.

--

Obi-Wan was waiting outside the transport. The sky was gray, and a slight wind ruffled the bottom of his cloak.

Ahsoka glanced at Anakin. "It looks like Master Kenobi just swallowed a bug."

Anakin passed her a severe frown, but couldn't help replying, "I'd say several bugs. Best behavior, Padawan."

As they walked up, Obi-Wan acknowledged them with a nod ."You're late, Anakin. Perhaps if you'd keep your comlink on you'd be more timely when receiving an assignment."

Anakin flushed. He _had_ switched off his comlink before leaving to speak with the Chancellor, and after his confrontation with Senator Organa he was barely able to see straight, let alone worry about checking for important messages. Still, Obi-Wan didn't need to censure him in front of his Padawan, even if he did technically outrank him. "I'm sorry, M--Obi-Wan."

"Your chronic tardiness is thankfully supplemented by other appreciated qualities." Obi-Wan's mouth nearly formed a smile, "I suppose."

Anakin heard Ahsoka's small relieved laugh; in her short time as an apprentice, she witnessed Anakin being rebuked too many times--forgetting, naturally, that on several of these occasions she was the one doing the lecturing.

The three of them settled into the transport. Anakin, on instinct, moved to the cockpit, and Ahsoka sat in the co-pilot's chair. He knew she was hoping to be allowed to assist in piloting, but he was in no mood. The immediacy of leaving for the mission had pushed aside thoughts of the Senator's evasiveness, but now, with a few days between Coruscant and Hezza, he realized he would have nothing but time to replay the words

_"Vape it, Skywalker, I have a _wife_--"_

_"P-Please...B-Bail...Bail!"_

and entertain the gruesome possibilities of Zigoola. He keyed in the coordinates for Hezza. The ship burst into hyperspace.

--


End file.
